


If Looks Could Kill, I'd Be Long Gone

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Playboy/Socialite, Angst, Jongdae is a bitch, M/M, Romance, Slight fluff, Smut, Tao fucking dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-04-13 14:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14114352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Byun Baekhyun was an assassin. He was one of the best there was, known for seducing his targets before taking them out shortly after. But one thing he never did, was get attached, or fall in love. Until he was assigned to take out Park Chanyeol.





	1. Of Motherly Instincts and Too-Sweet Cocktails

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my baby I love it sm :')
> 
> I originally wrote the beginning for an English paper but just kept writing after I turned it in.
> 
> Playlist inspired by this fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/onewschicken03/playlist/5o42zrivFteYPkDQTbX1Q9?si=Xh1NET86RvqTA3lCDDofww

“You ready to go?” Kyungsoo said as he poked his head through the crack in my door, his odd motherly instincts making themselves known.

“It’s just another job, ‘Soo. You don’t need to check on me while I’m getting ready. I’ll meet you downstairs,” I sighed out exasperatedly, my back to him while I straighten my tie in the full-length mirror in my closet. After making sure my outfit was straightened out, I turned to the rack next to my dresser, picking which weapon would fit the occasion. Most could be concealed in my jacket easily (except for the katana, which was more there for aesthetics than anything. Junmyeon had given it to me as a present when I had completed my training, so I kept it in case of him coming over and wanting to see if I still had it.), so I carefully chose the best choice for this kind of job, something that could be up close and personal without making too much of a mess on me. Something quiet (well, relatively) and something I could  _ use _ well. I settled on a pistol with a suppressor attached to the end, sliding it carefully into my crisp suit. I grabbed my phone from its dock on the nightstand quickly before heading downstairs.

 

As our black sedan pulled up to the home reminiscent of the Playboy Mansion, Kyungsoo and I stepped out. He straightened the lapels of my jacket, fussing over me almost like a mother again.

“Look at my son...all grown up and ready to kill spoiled rich kids!” He said with a grin adorning his heart-shaped lips.

“You’re literally 4 months older than me. Relax with all the mom stuff, Soo. We’re both 25,” I say with a sigh. Honestly, though, I don’t mind it too much at this point. He’s fussed over me like this since we were both young, growing up together, in a organization that groomed us into the talented hitmen we are today. Kyungsoo may not look it, but he’s one of the best snipers I’ve ever seen, and growing up the way we did, I’ve seen a lot of snipers.

“Okay, okay. I get it. But seriously,” He said, staring into my eyes with all the sweet motherly love gone, replaced with cold seriousness. “You can do this,” He said before smiling again and patting me on the shoulder. He slipped back into the car and shut the door, the car speeding off easily, the driver having experience with bobbing and weaving through the tangle of ridiculously expensive sports cars and private limousines. I turned away from the departing car, looking up at the impressive double doors of the mansion before me. I could pulsing music coming from the other side. There was what I could assume was the fancy equivalent of a bouncer standing in front of the door. He looked down at me with an eyebrow raised, as if I looked like I didn’t belong.

“Name?” He said, his voice monotonous. I could tell he just  _ loved _ his job.

“Kim Taehyung,” I said. Of course that wasn’t my real name. Taehyung had been a socialite who attended these sort of things regularly, who happened to look an astonishing amount like me. He had been killed in a car accident a few months ago. I use his name to do jobs, and that’s it. Of course, I’d give my target my real name. Since my real name and records are wiped, no one would be able to trace me.

The bouncer looks me up and down before opening the door to the manor, letting me in. I step into the lavish home and I am met with loud music blasting, and lots of young men in suits, along with some young women in tailored cocktail dresses, most look completely wasted. That’s how most of these parties went, as much as the place looked like it was made for fancy balls or banquets, it was 2018, and all of these socialites were too young with too much money. I saw several groups of people huddled around tables, people dipping down and then standing up, wiping white powder from under their noses. 

I headed over to the bar almost immediately, which luckily was distanced from the booming speakers, which meant I could actually hear myself think. No matter how many of these things I went to, I never enjoyed the blasting bass.ordering whatever the house cocktail was before pulling out my phone, checking Minseok's text, which he sent me shortly after I arrived. Minseok was the guy who briefed us on our targets, who basically knew everything about everyone. The man would’ve been a great gardener, what with his talent for digging up dirt.

 

From: Min

Your target is one Park Chanyeol. He is the current VP, soon to be CEO of the Park Corporation. He’s about 6’1”, and will most likely be wearing an Armani suit. I’ve got some pics so you’ll be able to pick him out of the crowd.

 

*Chanyeol.jpg*

 

I clicked on the attachment to get a good look at the guy. As I looked at the pictures, only one thought registered in my brain.  _ Damn, he’s cute, _ I think as I look at the guy. He has a big smile, and bright eyes, with ears that stick out in a cute way. At least it’ll make the rest of this night easier.  _ Baekhyun, focus,  _ I tell myself, shaking those previous thoughts away as I hastily text Minseok.

 

To: Min

Any dirt? Any sort of blackmail material I could use to get him alone?

 

I got a response almost immediately.

 

From: Min

Nothing. Guy’s completely clean, which is pretty rare. I have no idea why someone would want him dead. He seems like a stand-up guy. I’d bang him.

 

Choosing to ignore that last comment, I click off my phone and slide it into my pocket as my drink is placed in front of me. I pull out Taehyung’s credit card and pay for it. It’s too sweet, but I don’t mind. I sit at the bar for about two hours, checking the picture of Chanyeol on my phone against the men around me, looking for a glimpse of the tall man, to no avail.

 

After about 4 drinks, I once again give my credit card to the bartender to make it a fifth, but this time, he waves it away.

 

“No need,” he said, “The guy down there paid for it,” he told me as he pointed toward the opposite end of the bar. 

 

Just my luck.

 

The only person sitting at the end of the bar is none other than Park Chanyeol. He looked over at me and winked, beckoning me over.  _ Jesus this is going to be a lot easier than I thought _ , I think as I smile back and grab my drink before seating myself next to him. I awkwardly take a sip of the drink. He turned to me shortly after I take a sip, looking at with a bit of concern in his eyes.

 

“What do you think? I came up with recipe for that cocktail myself,” He said, looking at me expectantly.

“I-it’s good, a little too s-sweet for my tastes, but good n-nonetheless,” I respond, my voice higher than normal.  _ Why am I stuttering? Am I blushing? Pull it together, Baekhyun!  _ I think as he just grins at my awkwardness.

 

“I’m glad you like it _... _ umm...I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name,” He says sheepishly.

 

“Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun,” I say, taking another sip of the cocktail, nearly choking after what he says next.

 

“Just wanted to know the name of the guy who’ll wake up next to me with sore muscles tomorrow,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper and startlingly close to my ear. I practically had whiplash from how this guy had gone from enthusiastic and smiley to seductive and suave so fast. I had never had a target be this forward with me. But, once again, this just makes things easier on my side.  _ All I have to do is play along and pretend I’m interested _ , I think, ignoring how my heart was racing at the thought of spending the night with the handsome socialite next to me.

 

“Of course,” I responded, turning and in a burst of confidence(probably from the alcohol in my system), pulling his face closer to mine and closing the distance between us, our lips melding into a soft kiss that got more heated as it continued.

 

Soon after he had his arms around me, pulling my body as close as he could to his own, and I had my fingers tangled in his once-smoothed-over hair, he pulled away, still keeping his face just millimeters from mine, both of us pausing for breath as he gazed into my eyes. His eyes were so demanding, I felt like I was on display in front of him, like he could see every shred of my soul without even trying.

 

“How about we head back to my room, darling?” he breathed out, and my brain could hardly keep up as my body took control, immediately getting up with Chanyeol, as he slung his arm around my smaller frame and led me across the large ballroom-like space, smoothly weaving through the clusters of people, occasionally getting a wave and waving back quickly and flashing a wide smile before continuing on, clearly moving with a strong sense of purpose.


	2. Of Passion-Filled Nights and Bright Sunday Mornings

 

          He led me down several twisting hallways to his room, as soon as the door was clicked locked his body was pressed against mine, his lips claiming mine in an almost desperate kiss, like he was worried I was going to disappear any minute. In seconds I was pressed onto crisp silk sheets, both of us struggling to get our clothes off without our lips disconnecting.

 

He pulled away momentarily to pull his undershirt over his head, revealing chiseled abs, which made me lick my lips in anticipation. He slid to the end of the bed before pulling off his boxers, his erection springing out. 

 

He pulled me under him, as I wrapped my legs around him. He once again captured my lips in a heated, desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth, as he reached for the bottle of lube that sat inconspicuously on the nightstand. He once again pulled away from my now-abused lips, lubing up his rather large cock as well as three of his fingers.

 

I was already a mess by this point, my chest rising and falling quickly as I ran my tongue over my beet red lips. He made his way down my chest with wet kisses, his breath ghosting over my cock causing a strained moan to fall from my lips. He pushed my legs back towards my chest, and spreading my asscheeks before pushing one lubed finger inside, immediately beginning to thrust it in and out, causing me to whine with the need to feel more of him inside me. He added another finger, and shortly after that another, and soon he had three long, calloused fingers slamming into me easily, and I was panting and moaning wantonly with the need for his fingers to be replaced by something else. 

 

         Clearly he couldn't wait much longer either, as his fingers are gone in an instant, and he positioned himself at my entrance, looking up at me momentarily as if asking for permission. That was a first. Seeing as how I often had to be incredibly inebriated to even  _ stand  _ my usual targets, I also had to be way overly promiscuous around them, which often led to me being manhandled pretty severely. Not that I minded too much, but it was clear there was no affection, no care on either side. But this was different. He seemed to actually care whether I was comfortable or not with what he was doing.

 

         Regardless, I nodded quickly before he pushed in, filling me up. I felt hot tears roll down my face from how good he felt inside of me. He started to kiss them away as he bottomed out, whispering sweet words in between kisses. After I gave him the go-ahead, he started to move, slowly at first before speeding up, once again asking me before doing so. (Seriously does this guy have a kink for consent or something?) He sped up and grinned as he hit the place in me that made me see stars, and continuing to pound that spot incessantly. I came hard after pumping myself in time with his deep thrusts, cum spraying over mine and his chests. He came shortly after with a deep, breathy groan as my tight heat convulsed around him. He practically collapsed on top of me before rolling over and pulling out, making sure to pull the now-wrinkled silk sheets over both of us as our chests rose and fell in sync. We both looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch our breath, before he turns to me with another stupid-gorgeous smile on his face.

 

“Now that we've done that, do you think I could learn more than just your name, Byun Baekhyun?”

 

We talked late into the night about our lives, me trying my best to avoid the fact that I was a trained hitman, and him being none the wiser.

 

I woke up to the feeling of silk sheets and warm sunlight on my face, streaming through the curtains in the huge window on the opposite wall. Chanyeol’s room was nice; of course it was, considering his ridiculously rich parents would give anything to their son if he so much as frowned around them. Everything was clean- pristine, almost like this room had barely been touched, let alone slept in. However, there were clothes strewn about the room, a symbol of what had happened the night before. Shaking away those passion-filled hazy memories from my mind, I grabbed my jacket, which was not far from the bed, and withdrew the pistol from the inside pocket, aiming it at the back of the head of the man snoring quietly next to me, his chest slowly rising and falling, but not for long.

 

Right before I got a chance to pull that trigger, he stirred and I quickly slid the pistol under my pillow, making sure the safety was on as he turned to me with a sleepy smile painted on his lips.

 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, his deep voice murmuring the syllables as he wrapped his toned arms around my waist, grinning into my messy hair.

 

It was then that I knew that my heart beating like a rabbit’s wasn’t because I was coursing with adrenaline from being on a job, it was because I was in love with the man who had his arms circled around my slim waist, pulling me closer. That this job wasn’t going to be as quick as I initially thought.

 

I feel the regret setting in as I realize the gravity of the problem I have gotten myself into. The man laying next to me is supposed to be dead. Gone, with a bullet through his brain. He shouldn’t be laying here with me. I shouldn’t want to keep laying here with him. My emotions have been repressed for too long. I’d always been taught to show no emotion, and no mercy. Yet here I was, letting my feelings get in the way. I can’t help but wonder how my superiors are going to react. I’ve never failed on a job. In fact no one I know who’s alive has. In our line of work, one we were forced into at that, if you mess up, you get cut. Literally. Anyone I knew who had missed a chance, or got found out, they were dead in a matter of days. I remember Zitao’s funeral, when Jongdae held up his head, which had been severed from his body, and simply said to us,

 

“This is what happens when your emotions get in the way.”

 

I had been 15.

 

Zitao had actually been a dear friend of mine, his situation not too different from mine now. I remember shortly before he was gone, how he gushed to me about Yifan, a cold-looking wealthy socialite from China. They had hit it off immediately and Zitao could barely shut up about the man. Within a month of the failed job, as much as he tried to cover it up, hide the relationship and the fact that Yifan was still alive, he couldn’t hide anything from Jongdae and Junmyeon for too long. He was called to Jongdae’s office one cold night in January, and the next time I saw him, his head had been removed in one clean cut from his body. Jongdae had made an example of him.

 

His funeral was the day I learned my emotions could get me killed.

 

The problem with being trained practically from birth by Kim Contract Killer Organization is that if you’re killed, no one ever investigates. You have no records. You’re a ghost.

 

“I have to go,” I started, trying to pry his arms from my waist only to give in as he pulled me closer. Everything about this felt so right, but so, so wrong.

 

“No, you don’t,” he mumbled into my hair as a response. As much as I felt like I could stay his warm embrace forever, Kyungsoo would flip his shit if I wasted much more time here. I finally pulled away from him as he sat up with a pout. I carefully picked up my clothes, slipping on the button-up and the now-slightly-crumpled slacks. I grab up the jacket on the floor and my tie that somehow ended up on the chair near the far corner of the room. Chanyeol got up soon after I started picking up my clothes, walking into his large walk-in closet. I took this an opportunity to grab the pistol stored under the pillow, shoving it into the inside pocket of my jacket and zipping it up. I pull my phone from the pocket of my slacks, clicking it on and immediately being greeted with over 100 notifications, all from one person: Do Kyungsoo. 

 

_ Missed call: Soo (99+) _

_ Voicemail: Soo (25) _

_ Messages: Soo (99+) _

 

Shaking away the creeping anxiety slowly consuming me, I hesitantly tap on Kyungsoo’s contact to call him back. I'm immediately greeted with yelling so loud I have to hold the phone away from my face.

_ “ _ BYUNBAEKHYUNWHERETHEFUCKHAVEYOUBEENIVECALLEDYOUEXACTLYTWOHUNDREDTIMESANDYOUHAVENTPICKEDUPONCEYOUBETTERHAVEAGOODEXCUSEORISWEARYOULLBETHEONEWITHATARGETONYOURBACKANDAPRICEONYOURHEAD!!” I waited for him to stop for breath, before bringing the phone back up to my ear.

 

_ “ _ Okay, Kyungsoo, I can explain-”

 

“YOU BETTER START EXPLAINING FAST!” 

 

“Okay, first of all, I have some bad news. Chanyeol isn't dead.”

 

“He isn't  _ what _ ,” The anger in Kyungsoo’s voice gone, replaced with fear and borderline panic. Kyungsoo knew what happened when we messed up. I think that's why he's a sniper. He doesn't want to risk getting close. He had shut himself off from everyone after Zitao’s funeral, and had really only confided in me since then.

 

“I couldn't kill him. I'll explain when you pick me up okay? Sorry he's coming, I love you see you when you pick me up bye~” I say before quickly hitting the ‘end call’ button and sliding my phone into my pocket before Chanyeol emerged from the walk-in closet, dressed in a band tee and jeans. His hair was brushed out, but there were still traces of the styling gel from last night. It was interesting to see him dressed so casually, after seeing so many of these types dressed so formally all the time, and none of them living to change into their day clothes the following day, I guess I just assumed it was how they dressed all the time.

 

“Who was that?” He said, watching as I slipped on the shoes I had kicked off the night before.

 

“My friend Kyungsoo. He's on his way to pick me up,” I stated nonchalantly as I tied my laces.

 

“Oh,” he breathed out, almost sounding disappointed I was leaving. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer? I could make breakfast, we could talk some more-” I cut him off quickly, not wanting any of those ideas to take shape in my mind’s eye.

 

“Seriously. I have to get going. Kyungsoo will be here in like, fifteen minutes. As much I’d love to repeat last night, I have to go,” I said hurriedly, trying to avoid the cute pout that graced his features once again. I got up from the bed, walking towards the door before realizing I had no idea how to get to the entrance of the manor through the twisting route we had taken the night before.

 

“Do you want me to walk you to the front?” Chanyeol said, as if reading my mind.

 

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. He took my hand with a soft smile, leading me through the hallways easily until we arrived at the ballroom space from last night. There was Sunday morning sunlight streaming through the large windows, as several maids went about cleaning up the spilled drinks and discarded cups from last night. Not long after, my phone vibrated in my pocket, signalling Kyungsoo’s arrival as his car pulled up.

“And, there’s my ride. Thank you for everything,” I say as I stand my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek before I walk away. He stops me with a hand on my shoulder, and I turn back to him quizzically.

 

“Hey,” he started, almost seeming dare I say, nervous, “I had a really good time last night,” he grinned again. “I want to keep having good times with you, Byun Baekhyun,” he said before yanking my arm forward and pulling a pen from his pocket, scribbling what I could assume was his phone number on my arm. “Call me,” he smiled an almost melancholic smile before letting go of my arm.

 

Ignoring the my mind screaming at me to reject him, to just kill him now and have that be the end of it, I responded to him, tuning out all my of killer instincts.

 

“I want to keep having good times with you too, Park Chanyeol.”

 

I smiled back and turned to leave, leaving the handsome, sweet, gorgeous man I wanted dead behind me.

 

I was pulled into the black sedan by Kyungsoo almost as soon as the double doors shut behind me.

 

“What the fuck happened to you?” he says almost immediately.

 

 


	3. Of Annoying Secretaries and Missed Opportunities

 

I waited all day for the phone call. I constantly clicked on the device, like a nervous teenager waiting for a text from his crush, only to be greeted with a blank lock screen. Nothing. I groaned, leaning back in my chair and letting my head fall back resignedly.  _ The party was last night, _ I think,  _ Why have they not notified me?  _ I run my fingers through my hair nervously for what must be the 500th time this morning. They better call me soon.

 

We pulled up to the skyscraper, coming to an abrupt stop directly in front of the large glass doors. Kyungsoo practically shoves me out of the car out onto the sidewalk, before joining me as we headed into the building. We continued walking side by side wordlessly until the elevator doors slid closed sluggishly. As soon as the doors closed, Kyungsoo turned me to him, desperately trying to smooth out the wrinkles in my dress shirt, and brushing out my rumpled hair as much as he could with his fingers.

 

“Okay, we need to think of a excuse, fast,” he said hurriedly as the elevator made its slow climb to the top floor. I remembered the only reason we couldn't talk in the car. Our car had been bugged by Jongdae, so he could hear any signs of “dissent”.

 

“Excuse for what?” I said, hangover still barely fogging over my mind.

 

“For why Park fucking Chanyeol is still walking around with a beating heart, genius,” Kyungsoo sighed matter-of-factly.

 

“Oh. Right,” I murmured, shaking my head slightly, pushing the last vestiges of morning grogginess from my mind. We did need to come up with a story, and fast. Kyungsoo stepped away from me after fixing me up best he could, staring at me expectantly.

 

“You're the better liar of the both of us! Come up with something!” He snapped at me. I just stood there, my head drawing blank after blank. It felt like all ability and skill had left my brain at the time it was most needed. Finally, a lightbulb went off.

 

“I never saw him!” I blurted out, breaking the tense silence between Kyungsoo and I, making him jump slightly in the process. I backtracked to explain my train of thought.

 

“You know, I could just tell them that I never saw him. I spent the whole night seeking him out, but to no avail. You picked me up after the party ended, and I went home with you. You could vouch for me.”

 

Kyungsoo looked at me with one eyebrow cocked, as if asking me if that was the best I could do. And, well, under the circumstances, it was.

 

“How are you going to explain your- despite my best efforts- messed-up clothes?”

 

Shit.

 

“I came back late, fell asleep in my clothes, and you woke me up late, so I couldn't change.”

 

Right as I finished my sentence, the elevator dinged, and the doors crinkled open, signalling the end of our deliberation, like some sick game show.

 

“Well,” Kyungsoo hissed, “I guess that's the best we’re gonna do.”

 

We stepped out into the reception, greeted by our bosses’ chipper secretary. His name was LuHan, and while he was several years older than both of us, he acted, as well as looked,  _ much _ younger.

 

“Hi Baekkie! Hi Kyungsoo!” He yipped excitedly, waving his arm at the speed of light. “You're here to see Jongdae, right?”

 

Shit again. 

 

“N-no, we came to meet with Junmyeon,  _ not  _ Jongdae,” Kyungsoo stuttered, clearly just as nervous as me.

 

You see, we have two bosses. Junmyeon, while he could break a man's neck without breaking a sweat, is much nicer, and in general, almost kind of served as a father to Kyungsoo and I. Jongdae, on the other hand, was without a doubt the most terrifying man I had ever met. Not many things scared me, but  _ he  _ was high on the list. If you did so much as  _ look _ at him the wrong way, there would be a knife impaled in the wall next you. Knowing his deadly accuracy when it came to throwing knives, it full well could’ve been puncturing your prefrontal cortex. We’d seen some of our strongest colleagues leave in tears following meetings with him after a lackluster performance. He beheaded Zitao as a punishment, to make an example of him. He wasn’t someone you fucked around with. And since today I had something to hide, I definitely wanted to avoid having to speak with Jongdae.

 

“Well, Junmyeon isn’t here today, so you’ll have to meet with Jongdae,” Luhan said matter-of-factly, as if that was something that we should’ve known before coming. If I hadn’t so preoccupied with my impending doom, I would have decked him right then and there. He went to clicking away diligently at his computer (It looked like he was playing Overwatch) after flashing us a mischievous smile, as he most likely knew what was coming next. He typed a number into the phone next to him without looking from his computer before a lilting, but clearly annoyed, voice came over the speaker phone.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Byun and Do are here to see you, sir,” Luhan replied back sweetly to the agitated tone, a pout gracing his feminine features as screen lost saturation, signalling his character’s death.

 

“Well, send them in. Took them long enough to get here,” Jongdae sighed as if our being was the greatest pain in his ass.

 

“Alrighty!” Luhan responded back with the pout now gone, the words ‘ _ DOUBLE KILL _ ’ flashing across his screen, reflected back in his large round glasses. “He’s expecting you. You know where his office is, so head on in!” He informed us, still clicking away, not looking up from his computer, but still talking enthusiastically to us, as if we should be jumping for joy at what could very well be our death sentence.

 

As we walked off in the direction of Jongdae’s office, we heard the phone ring and Luhan once again put them on speaker.

 

“Kim Contract Killer Organization Main Office. This is Luhan speaking.”

 

“I’m going to blow up this whole fucking building and you guys will take the fall, if you don’t comply to my demands.”

 

“Yeah okay,” Luhan replied before hanging up to focus completely on his game.

 

Kyungsoo knocked on Jongdae’s door, and waited patiently before the same irritated voice that we had heard over the phone barked a quick ‘Come in’.

 

Now, Jongdae on his own isn’t a very threatening person. He’s a short man with short, wavy hair and he actually has a sweet grin when he does smile. But it’s the dark expression on his face, and the knowledge that from where he is, he could kill you 16 different ways that make him that much more intimidating. His hair was slightly messy from running hand through it, probably wondering where we are. I hesitantly checked the clock.  _ 12:46 _ . In other words, we were way too late.

 

“Care to explain?” He was clearly trying to restrain his anger as stared at us intently, his eyes burning through us.

 

“I slept in,” I hesitantly spoke up, breaking the crackling silence.

 

“That’s not an excuse,” Jongdae growled.

 

“I went to the job, left and fell asleep in my clothes. I stayed up too late and Kyungsoo forgot to wake me up,” I desperately tried to make this bullshit story as believable as possible to a man who could most likely see right through me. He grinned darkly.

 

“Is that all?” He said too sweetly. He reached into his desk and before I could even register it, there was a thin knife embedded in the wall millimeters from my head. I jumped back slightly as he slammed his hand on the desk.

 

“Do  _ not _ make me do something I'll regret, Baek. Punctuality is something I do not take lightly. You should know that by now. You too, Kyungsoo,” He stared at us with unforgiving eyes. “Now. What about Park Chanyeol? You did complete your task, yes?” He ran a hand through his hair and turned to stare only at me, and I felt like an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun, burning as he watched, almost sadistically. 

 

“Umm...no,” I barely managed to breathe out. I could see unbridled rage twist his features.

 

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” He roared. “I ASSIGN YOU TO A JOB, AND YOU DO IT. HOW FUCKING DIFFICULT IS THAT?” He lost it, impaling yet another knife in the desk.

 

“O-okay, I can explain,” I felt like his hand was around my throat, gripping and tightening, keeping me from getting any words out. I struggled against it.

 

“Well, you better have the best fucking excuse I've ever heard,” he said, now standing threateningly close to me, looking at me up and down, as of examining what would be the best way to kill me effectively. He leaned a little closer.

 

“You don't want to end up like Zitao, do you?”

 

I shivered.

 

I took a deep breath.

 

“I didn’t see him,” I whispered.

 

Jongdae cocked his head to the side, as if he didn’t hear me, which I know for a fact he did.

 

“I didn’t see him,” I repeated, slightly louder this time.

 

“Didn’t you look for him?” He spoke to me as if I was simply a child who had misplaced a toy.

 

“I did, I promise I  _ did _ , but I couldn’t find him,” I pleaded as if begging for my life. “The party was breaking up at around 3 AM, and I still couldn’t find him,” I explained. “So I called up Kyungsoo, and he drove me home,” I explained. Jongdae didn't look pleased.

 

Right as he was about to yell again, suddenly, the phone rang. And the particular ringtone made it clear who was calling. I sighed with relief.

 

The ringtone was Red Flavor. That meant it was Junmyeon. Kyungsoo and I both sighed with relief. Jongdae looked at both us, as if saying ‘ _ this isn't over _ ’ before turning away to pick up the phone.

 

“Hello, honey,” he said reluctantly.

 

“Dae, what's this I hear about yelling coming from your office?” Junmyeon said.

 

“Where did you hear  _ that _ ?” Jongdae said incredulously, clearly trying to cover his ass. Junmyeon, of course, could see right through his bullshit. He sighed, before continuing.

 

“Those walls aren't soundproof, darling,” he scoffed, “And Luhan isn't as braindead-or deaf- as you seem to think he is.” Jongdae seemed to make a metal note to beat the shit out of the sassy secretary later.

 

“What was so upsetting, honey? Byun and Do are two of our top officers, what could they have done?”

 

“See, you don’t understand! You know that Byun was on a job last night, right?”

 

“Yes, and?”

 

“Well, he didn't get the  _ fucking _ job done,” he said indignantly.

 

“Well, at least he's being honest with you,” Junmyeon stated, trying to argue for me the best he could. I gradually spaced out, my mind wandering gradually to last night, thinking of Chanyeol, dear, sweet, Chanyeol, and the way his arms fit so snugly around my waist.

 

Kyungsoo snapped me back to reality, where Junmyeon was now on speaker phone, with Jongdae looking at me expectantly.

 

“Well?” Jongdae scoffed.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said, Jongdae-ssi,” I muttered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Jongdae groaned quietly with annoyance, before Junmyeon repeated himself.

 

“I asked what you are going to do next time to make sure you finish your job.”

 

“Wait, you're giving me another chance?” I said probably a little too brightly.

 

“Of course. You didn't think you'd get cut for such an infraction? You're one of our best officers, and this the first time this has happened. You're just going to need to make sure the job is done next time, and I doubt Jongdae going off on you like he did was very reassuring,” Junmyeon explained. I sighed in relief. Jongdae looked usurped. 

 

“Umm, well,” I fumbled over my words, hopefully trying to come up with a decent strategy. “I can talk to Minseok, and get his number. Ask to meet him privately, and get the job done then,” I hastily threw together something that sounded plausible.

 

“There you go! Now head down to Minseok’s office before I change my mind!” He said in a chipper tone.

 

“Yes sir,” Kyungsoo and I said unison before bowing to a clearly annoyed Jongdae before ducking out of the room as quick as we could. We heard the receiver on the phone being slammed down, signalling a most likely furious Jongdae hanging up on his husband.

 

We moved quickly to Minseok’s office, ignoring a “Hey, where’s my thank you!?” from Luhan as we did so.

  
  


After I hung up on my weak husband, I carefully dialled the number on  my computer monitor, and waited patiently for an answer. He picked up in less than a second.

 

“Well? Is it done? I’ve waited all day for your call, Jongdae,” the man on the other side of the phone growled. I kept my composure as I answered coolly.

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean no?”

 

“Listen Jongin, these things take ti-”

 

“ _ Don’t  _ call me that.”

 

“Okay, Mr. Park,” I made air-quotes as I said this, but of course the young businessman couldn’t see that. “What I was  _ trying _ to say was, the job was not done. Chanyeol isn’t dead. Not yet, at least. Byun said he didn’t see him at all last night, and is planning to meet with him privately at a later time to execute the command he has been given. I will get back to you with more details as it develops,” I stated to the clearly annoyed client on the other end.

 

“ _ Ugh, _ fuck. Just...call me when you have any news. I need that prissy asshole dead as soon as possible. I paid you idiots a lot of money, and you better fucking deliver, Jongdae,” He growled again, before slamming down the receiver, hanging up on me.

  
  
  



	4. Of Lunch Meetings and Jealousy

 

Minseok was checking his hair in the small, ring-lit mirror on his desk as we practically ran into his neat office. He held up his finger to us, as he smoothed out a small flyaway in his thick black hair. As he finished, he shut off the ring light and looked up at us.

 

“Okay, go,” He surveyed us both up and down. Minseok was an expert at reading people, so it made sense that before I could even start with that bullshit story, he butted in.

 

“That Park dude banged you last night,” He stated without missing a beat, having now pulled a nail buffer out of its specialized compartment in his desk.

 

“Wait, how did you-”

 

“You have a particular look in your eyes after you’ve gotten some good dick,” He grinned slyly, his cat-like features accentuated. I blushed a little, Kyungsoo’s owl-like eyes gone wider.

 

“And as for knowing it was Park, he posted on a private social media account today,and I quote,” he cleared his throat and clicked a couple of times to pull up something on his computer, “‘Just spent the last night getting to know a beautiful angel. Byun Baekhyun, I hope to find you again.’” He looked up at me with one eyebrow quirked. He folded his hands delicately in front of him.

 

“So, what are we gonna do about this not-so-little problem? You know I could just go to Jongdae right now, and end this, and clear myself of any involvement,” He smirked again.

 

“But you knew about that post beforehand,and you didn’t say anything,” Kyungsoo spoke for me. Minseok looked a little caught off-guard, and grinned again.

 

“Well, that’s not guaranteeing I won’t,” He retorted. I groaned quietly. We could go at this all day, but now was not the time. 

 

“Listen, I just need you to tell Jongdae, you gave me his number, so I can figure this out, okay? I’m too young to die,” I babbled worriedly to Minseok, in hopes he would take pity on me. He rolled his eyes.

 

“ _ Fine. _ But only because you’re my friend. Even though I would kind of like to see you dismembered sometimes,” He muttered the last part, but I chose to ignore it. I was just once again, flushed with relief. I was practically knocking on death’s door, and eventually that fucker is going to answer.

  
  


“Mr.Park-”

 

“You don’t need to call me that, Sehun. Please call me by my name. You’re only a year and some change younger than me.”

“R-right.  _ Chanyeol _ , your brother is here to see you.”

 

“Jongin?”

 

“You only have one brother, Chanyeol,” Jongin’s voice cut smoothly through the air as he burst into my music room, interrupting what was a very good songwriting session. I felt a little cheated, but still happy my baby brother came to visit after he got off from work. He sighed as he collapsed into the chair on the other side of the brightly lit room. He ran a hand through his neatly styled hair and looked over to me, in my casual clothes, guitar in my lap.

 

“Let's go out for lunch!” I said brightly, grinning at my brother. He cocked his head to the side in confusion.

 

“Why can't we just eat here? Your personal chef can make anything under the sun, Hyung,” He sighed and leaned back in the chair, massaging his temples.

 

“But there’s this new café in town that I have been  _ dying _ to try!” I excitedly put down my guitar and pulled a slightly annoyed Jongin out of the chair but stopped once again as my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, only to grin before accepting the call.

 

“Yo, what’s happening, Chan?”

 

“Going out for lunch with my brother. What’s up with you, Xing?”

 

“Well, that’s convenient. I was calling you to let you know that I’m gonna be in Korea for a few days, and wanted to have lunch with you while I was here.”

 

“Oh, sweet! Just meet Jongin and I at...uhh...what was the name of that place,” I murmured, and I could’ve sworn I saw Jongin roll his eyes out of the corner of my eye. “Oh right! ‘Cosmic Latte’! It’s a new café that just opened up!” I said brightly.

 

“Alright! I'll just map it and I'll see you there Chan!” Yixing said brightly before hitting 'End Call’. I turned to Jongin with a toothy grin.

 

“Yixing’s gonna meet us there. Is that alright?” I beamed. Jongin nodded, and I took his hand again, as I lead him out of the house, Sehun following close behind.

  
  
  


I groan internally as my brother drags me through his manor. How come  _ he _ has a nicer house than me? He barely works, preferring to spend all his time messing around on his guitar, writing songs no one wants to hear. If he wants to do that, that’s fine, but he’s still taking over as CEO? What the fuck? That should be me at the head of the company, not him. I hire an assassin to kill his sorry ass, put my fucking reputation on the line, and yet, here I am, being dragged out to god-knows-where by this asshole.

 

I can feel the eyes of his bodyguard burning into my back, even through those too-dark sunglasses of his. I think he has some sort of grudge against me, as he only ever glares at me when I’m around. I suppose he’s right to be suspicious, but I still wish he could just  _ fuck off _ every once in a while.

 

Chanyeol and I watched as the car pulled up, and I had half a mind to shove him in front of the moving vehicle, but decide against it as his bodyguard probably wouldn’t hesitate to incapacitate me. Besides, it’s not going fast enough to cause any permanent damage, so it would be a whole lot of hassle for a whole lot of nothing. I’m not even given much time to ponder the idea before being ushered into the town car by Chanyeol, as he slid into the seat adjacent to mine, still having that stupid grin plastered across his face. His bodyguard- what’s his name, Seho? Sehan? Something stupid and pretentious like that - sits down in the seat in front of us, whispering incoherently into his earpiece. Chanyeol starts to talk my ear off, asking me about my week, to which I respond with pre-recorded canned vague responses in my brain, my mouth contorting into a plastic smile, letting my outward senses go on autopilot while I imagine what the view is like from the CEO office, and what my brother’s head will look like on a silver platter.. 

  
  
  


“C’mon, you need to relax! You haven’t eaten today I’m assuming, and you need to get your resolve up before you see Chanyeol again!” Kyungsoo is explaining to me as we walk out the large double doors and clamber into our waiting car.

 

“I don’t know Soo, I really just want to focus on how to deal with this,” I try to tell him. I try to smooth out my wrinkled shirt again to avoid his all-too-knowing gaze. He knows me too well.

 

“Let’s just head back to the apartment, you can get changed, take a shower, and we can go to the new cafe down the street from us!” My mind suddenly filed away my fears as I thought of how much I would cherish a shower, and fresh clothes. 

 

We clamber into the car, and I let out a sigh. Of relief, or anxiety, I’m not really sure.

 

On one hand, I had at least postponed my death, due to being in Junmyeon’s good graces. If he hadn’t called when he did, I could’ve gotten into a lot more trouble. For once, I’m grateful for Luhan’s intervention.

  
On the other hand, I made a promise I’m not sure I can keep. Usually I didn’t feel a thing for my targets, but Chanyeol, was… different. From the moment he grinned at me, I felt any thoughts of my mission, of what I was supposed to do, what I _needed_ to do, fading away, replaced by butterflies in my stomach and fumbling over my words. I don’t think, if it came down to it, if I could really do what was asked of me, and that left me terrified. After all, I had nowhere to run. If Jongdae found out, that was the end of it. I  was done for. And even if I tried to run to Chanyeol, he would push me away for lying to him, leaving me completely doomed. How long could I keep this act up?


End file.
